


A Poet and a Flirt and a Night of Carousing

by Pthithia



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gavroche is Courfeyrac's adopted son, M/M, Secret Relationship, a little bit of sexy times, single parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 18:39:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6090373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pthithia/pseuds/Pthithia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac and Jehan have a nice r-rated adult sleepover while Gavroche has a nice pg-rated sleepover. A little bit of angst and a big bit of fluff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Poet and a Flirt and a Night of Carousing

**Author's Note:**

> I had a bad day that got progressively worse, so I thought I would brighten up a friend's day. I wrote this for Dan in an hour and it probably shows. Not my best work, but it'll do. Gavroche is Courfeyrac's adoptive son (because that is one headcanon I will never change). Enjoy!

Jehan rolled off of Courfeyrac with a huff, flopping on his back next to him in the bed, both of them panting for breath.

"So," Courfeyrac managed to wheeze. "Here we are."

Jehan nodded. "Yep."

Neither said anything more, simply laying there in semi-awkward silence as the sweat cooled on their skin.

"Um, anyway," Jehan said in an attempt to make conversation, "where's Gavroche?"

"A sleepover. I, uh, I have to go pick him up at two."

"Right."

Courf bit his lip and didn't say anything, but he could see Jehan roll onto his side and face him, propped up on his elbow.

"Look, Courf, if you don't want to do this with me that's fine, you know you can just say so-"

"What? No, no, you've got this all wrong." Courfeyrac mirrored Jehan's pose so that he could look at him. "I do want to be here, I really do, it's just..."

"Just what?" Nothing. "You're worrying me, Courf. You're not the type to get shy. Was the sex really that bad?"

Courfeyrac finally smiled. "Actually, it was the best I've had in ages. Don't fret." Jehan smiled, his fingertips delicately dancing along Courf's collarbones.

"Then what's wrong?"

Courfeyrac looked away. "I guess I just... I worry about what Gavroche will think if I get into a relationship."

Jehan's fingers paused. "What do you mean?"

Courf sighed. "Well, you know that I haven't had any sort of real relationship with anyone since I adopted Gavroche. Almost seven years ago."

"So you've had a dry spell. I have too," Jehan teased.

"Well, the thing is, I like to be in a relationship. I'm just- I don't know, naturally flirty?"

"That is accurate."

"Anyway, I tended to rush into things a little fast. And the worst part, the absolute worst part would be introducing them to to Gavroche. I mean, at the start it's sexy and fun and exciting. Nothing serious. But then they start to realize that I'm always going to place my kid ahead of them, no matter what. They start in with how 'inconvenienced' they are and then they leave. And dammit if I hate Gavroche getting attatched to person after person only to have them leave like those fuckers called his parents-"

"Courf." Jehan placed a finger on the other man's lips. "I understand. But, just for the record, if you'll let me, I will never leave." He smiled. "I really do like you. And I would expect you to put Gavroche before me. You're a good dad like that."

It was Courfeyrac's turn to smile. "Thanks."

"Besides, I really like Gavroche," Jehan mumbled against Courf's skin, ducking down to press little kisses to his chest. "I think he's a great kid. I know he's non-negotiable."

"God," Courfeyrac sighed, threading his hands through Jehan's strawberry-blonde hair. "You really are selling the whole package, aren't you?"

Jehan's fingers trailed down his abdomen. "Mmmm, trying my hardest here. I would be the best parent's boyfriend ever. Just ask him."

"Yeah, if you don't mind can we not talk about my son in bed anymore?" Courfeyrac asked with a breathy laugh.

Jehan giggled and climbed back on top of him, ducking down to press their lips together, his nimble fingers trailing south of their hips.

"You couldn't possibly be ready again," Courfeyrac complained.

"Couldn't I."

Early afternoon sunlight was filtering into the bedroom by the time they wrestled themselves out of bed and into the shower (where they got dirty before they got clean). Afterwards Courfeyrac sat on the foot of the bed, leaning back on his hands and watching as Jehan got dressed, pulling on the same floral skinny jeans and bright yellow button down from the night before.

"Enjoying the view?" he teased, reaching up to pull his long hair back.

"Mmm, quite a bit. The rumpled clothes just give the whole look a certain je nais se quoi."

Jehan snorted. "Yeah, thanks for that. You could have been a little less wreckless."

"Hey, all clothes look the same tossed at the foot of the bed."

"So, what do you think Gavroche’s been doing at this sleepover?" The poet asked, sinking onto the comforter next to the other man, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

"Lord, I don't even want to know." Courfeyrac shook his head. "When I was his age I was doing far less innocent things than sleepovers."

"Same here." Jehan picked up his purple hightops and pulled them over his mismatched socks. "Those were the days, huh?"

"Yeah. Trust me, I was there. I remember."

"Tell Gavroche drugs are bad." Jehan gave a lopsided grin and clambered up to straddle Courfeyrac's lap, hands on his shoulders.

"Hi there," he said softly, pressing their lips together and tugging on his dark curls.

"We've got ten minutes before we have to leave," Courf whispered, kissing down to Jehan's jaw, his neck, his collarbone.

"Well, as much as I'd love to continue this little show, I don't have anything to change into if I, er, make a mess of myself." He tilted his head back to give Courf better access.

Courfeyrac huffed. "I could always lend you something."

"Not to be rude, I love your style as much as the next guy, but I think Gavroche might just notice if I'm wearing your lime green jeans and a hot pink fedora."

"I'd still love to see you in my clothes. And it's not too far from your usual style."

"Sure, sure. We'd be about as good at hiding a relationship as Enjolras and Grantaire."

"They're both idiots when it comes to this kind of thing. The day they finally get over themselves, everyone will know."

"What? That the golden leader has finally lost his virginity?"

"Eugh!" Courfeyrac groaned, falling back on the bed and dragging Jehan with him. "Don't ever reference our friend's virginity when we're fooling around."

"Wow," Jehan smirked, his hand fiddling with Courfeyrac's belt buckle. "Can't talk about Gavroche in bed, can't talk about Enjolras’ virginity in bed. Pretty soon you'll be pounding me into the mattress in stone cold silence."

Courfeyrac grinned and gave the poet a light pinch. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Jehan just winked. "C'mon, let's go. You have a teenager to pick up."

*

Courfeyrac put the car in park outside the two-story house in the classic cookie cutter neighborhood. "Okay, we've got two minutes of grace time," he said, twisting in his seat to look at Jehan in the backseat. "What's our story?"

Jehan cleared his throat professionally. "I've been at a slam poetry event all morning downtown. I called you to come pick me up afterwards because Bahorel had to go get Feuilly from work. Now you're taking me home and everything is completely normal."

"And your clothes? He saw you at yesterday's meeting at the Musain."

"Sometimes I enjoy wandering the streets at night. It lends the opportunity to inspiration."

"Okay. That'll work." Courfeyrac turned back and planted his hands firmly on the wheel.

Jehan looked at his hands in his lap. "Courf, Gavroche knows you're gay, right?"

"Of course." Courfeyrac's green eyes flickered up to meet the eyes of the poet in the rear view mirror.

"You don't have to say anything now, but- can you promise me something?"

"What?"

"Promise me that you trust me enough to tell Gavroche eventually about you and I and believe me when I say I won't ditch you."

Their eye contact in the mirror didn't break. "I promise."

"Thank you."

Across the lawn, Gavroche opened the door of the house and jogged across the grass, backpack slung over his shoulder and long blonde hair glinting in the sunlight.

He popped open the passenger door and swung inside, slamming it behind him. "Hey Courf."

"Hey kid."

"Good morning, Gavroche!"

Gavroche jumped in his seat and turned around. "Oh, hey, Jehan. I didn't see you there."

"We gotta stop and drop him off at home first," Courfeyrac said noncommittally, putting the car in drive and pulling into the street.

"Where were you?"

"A poetry slam." Jehan smiled out the window. "Bahorel had to bail on me."

"Oh." Gavroche frowned and turned back to the front, pulling his seat belt on.

"So, how was Navet's?" Courfeyrac asked. "Do anything illegal?"

Gavroche rolled his eyes. "Very funny. And no. It was fine, we ended up dismantling the lawn mower and hiding half in the shed and half in the garage."

"When I said don't do anything I wouldn't do-"

"- which is absolutely nothing at all-"

"- I never thought I would have to list destroying lawn equipment."

Gavroche grinned. "Navet's dad is out of town; he'll never even realize it's gone."

Courfeyrac rolled his eyes affectionately. "Whatever you say, kid."

The two continued their casual banter all they way to the neighborhood where Jehan lived: a pretty row of apartment buildings in faded pastel colors and flowers exploding out of planters and flower boxes, ivy growing up the walls. It was the kind of place you'd expect to see in a fairytale.

"Well, Monsieur Prouvaire, I do believe that this is your stop," Courfeyrac said playfully, parking outside a mint green building with magenta accents.

"Why, thank you Monsieur Courfeyrac. And Gavroche." Jehan winked. "I will see you and YOU," he squeezed Courf's shoulder gently, "very soon."

"Au revoir."

And with one last smile and wink Jehan slammed the door closed and disappeared into the building.

Courfeyrac pulled back into the main road in silence, Gavroche uncharacteristically quiet beside him.

"Hey, Courf?"

"Yes, petit?"

"Was Jehan wearing the same clothes from yesterday?"

Courfeyrac didn't look at him. "Maybe. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. Nevermind." Gavroche looked back out the window.

"Hey. Charmant."

"What?"

"He's gone now," Courfeyrac stage whispered. "What did you two really do last night that I'm going to get a call about?"

Gavroche grinned evilly out the window. "Shall I start at the beginning?"

**Author's Note:**

> Is it blasphemy in this fandom to have a Jehan that isn't genderfluid/nonbinary/trans? Either way, I'm sorry haha. I give you a virtual cookie if you know who Navet is. Leave me a comment, if you're into that, and let me know what you think. Thanks for reading!


End file.
